Chapter 22: A Different Kind of Island Getaway

[Author's Note: For this chapter, I kind of had to jump around in the Watch Dogs timeline a little bit so that things would jive better with my now revised vision of the story. Therefore, we'll be heading to Aiden and Clara's bunker a little ahead of schedule. I actually had a whole different plan for this chapter, but a recent guest review inspired me to change things up a bit! Thanks to that particular guest for giving me the idea, by the way! Also, another guest (not sure if it was the same one) asked if Aiden had that chat with Raul. I made sure to add some details here that should hopefully answer that question to your satisfaction.]

Abbot Island
30 Minutes Later

Detectives Harrison and Voight mutually decided that it was time for Aiden Pearce to fully explain himself, and that they would need a place that was as isolated as possible for the three of them to have the conversation. Always the persuasive free-thinker, Aiden convinced the detectives to bring him to bring him to an unpopulated island that housed three now seemingly abandoned buildings that had been decommissioned some time ago.

Abbot Island was a small island on Lake Michigan that was only reachable by a retractable steel bridge that was controlled remotely. From the 1940's to the early 1970's, the island was home to the Ogden Steel Company. This company was once a thriving business that supplied steel to half the Midwest. Unfortunately, the business went belly up when a substantial number of staffers either joined the military, were drafted into the Vietnam War, or left their positions to protest against what they felt was a faulty and/or outright corrupt establishment.

Since the inception of the internet, rumors had swirled around the hacker community about a bunker that was supposedly located somewhere in one of the buildings, but no one up to this point was ever able to prove whether or not the enigmatic place truly existed. However, thanks to Aiden's persistence and his associate Clara's enthusiasm, the two hackers were able to prove that the bunker did indeed exist.

Voight pulled his Dodge Dakota up to the retractable bridge, which at the moment was retracted into an improper position. He looked to Pearce, who was seated in the backseat of the truck.

"How are we supposed to get on to this island of yours?" he asked.

Pearce then produced his cell phone from his pocket, aimed it at the bridge, and pressed a button. The bridge then turned with a loud mechanical whirring sound, aligning itself properly with the truck's position, at which point Voight steadily rolled the truck across the bridge and onto Abbot Island itself. Once he parked the truck in front of one of the old buildings, the three men promptly exited the vehicle and took in their surroundings.

Voight looked around and smiled at the sight of all the worn black and white Ogden Steel Company banners and signs which still hung on and around the old boarded up buildings. "Heh", he said with a chuckle, "Ogden Steel Company. I used to see their billboards all over the city when I was in high school. My dad used to comment on how many of their ads were in his newspaper every morning."

With Voight's mention of his father, Harrison's look changed. "Your dad was a cop too, right?"

Voight nodded. "CPD, nineteen years", he replied, "How'd you know that?"

"A couple of the veteran coppers back at the Thirty-Four mentioned both him and you a few times", Harrison said, "They said he was killed on the job. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, kid", Voight said, "District Twenty-One was his home away from home. When he died and I joined CPD, I figured it could be mine, too."

Aiden Pearce then cut in on the conversation. "The elevator's this way, gentlemen", he said as he pointed to a corner beside one of the buildings. He then guided the detectives to a large red shipping container with a sizeable Blume logo stamped on its side.

"This island looks to be littered with discarded junk", Harrison said as he noted the big logo, "What did the Blume Corporation want with a bunch of old buildings and unused equipment?"

Pearce then threw open the door and waved them inside the container. "Clara and I did a bunch of research to try and figure that out", he began to explain as Harrison and Voight entered the bunker and pulled the door closed behind them, "Best as we could tell, they wanted to have some sort of failsafe facility so they'd have an off-site place for certain people to work. This bunker we found has a bunch of secondhand Blume computer equipment in it that we guess hasn't been touched by human hands since the corporation opened up shop in Chicago."

Pearce pressed a button on his phone, at which point the container was automatically lifted by a crane up and over before finally being set inside what appeared to be the second or third story of one of the old Ogden buildings. The valiant hacker opened the door once again, and once Harrison and Voight exited the makeshift elevator, the two detectives found themselves inside some sort of entryway.

"Where the hell are we?" an impatient Voight asked.

Pearce said nothing in response as he pulled open the sliding interior door. Beyond this door was a huge, open-spaced chamber of a room. A huge bank of high-definition monitors was at the forefront of this room, and the sight of this reminded Harrison of The Aquarium and the CtOS Task Force.

"Holy shit, Aiden!" Harrison exclaimed, "Blume must've been sitting on a goddamn goldmine here for all those years."

Clara Lille had been working at the bunker's main computer, and paused her focus to turn and notice the two strangers who had entered their bunker. She yelled something at Pearce in French, which Harrison figured was some sort of swear word.

Voight chuckled at the sight of the mohawked, heavily-tattooed woman and her protestations. "Where did he find her, I wonder?" Voight softly uttered to Harrison. Harrison grinned in retort.

"Damn it, Aiden!" Clara said to Pearce, "You said we shouldn't tell people about this place! And you bring two strangers in here? Why?"

Pearce sighed to compose himself, all but ignoring his associate's obvious frustration. "Detective Harrison", he said as he gestured to Clara, "This is Clara Lille. Clara, this is Detective Harrison with the Chicago PD." He then gestured to Voight. "This is his partner, Detective…" his voice momentarily trailed off.

"Hank Voight", Voight chimed in, "So, you guys are with that DeadSec group everybody's been whispering about, huh?"

Clara nodded apprehensively. "Which is why we usually wouldn't invite police in here", she said candidly.

The two detectives descended the stairs. "I have a major bone to pick with you, Aiden", Harrison said as he got straight down to business, "What the hell were you doing at Palin Correctional today?"

Pearce hung his head in angst. "I was looking for one of the Viceroy gang members who escaped the stadium the other night", he replied.

Voight scoffed. "Nice mess you left for us", he said, "We know Maurice Vega was there that night, too, Pearce. Why don't you tell us what went down?"

Pearce sighed. "I got some intel that there was an inmate there who was the only survivor from the stadium", he began to explain.

Harrison nodded in acknowledgement. "Raul Lionzo", he said, "Detective Tran and I were clued into him about the same time that you were, as it seems."

"I managed to find him through the CtOS cameras", Pearce continued, "I followed him down to the basement laundry were some CO's were beating him up. Next thing I know, you and the other detective showed up and all hell broke loose."

"You don't have to tell me that, Aiden", Harrison snapped, "All that gunplay put my partner…my friend…in Chicago Med with a gunshot wound in her shoulder!"

"I'm sorry", Pearce said after a beat, "I never intended for either of you guys to get hurt. How is she doing?"

"It looks like she's going to be fine", Voight said, "But like Troy said, we need the facts here. What happened after the laundry room shootout?"

"I cornered Raul", Pearce replied, "We had a little chat. I cautioned him against blabbing to other inmates or talking to the cops, and then I took off."

Voight took a minute to take in Aiden's peculiar details. "You are aware that just by telling us this", he said with an instructive tone in his voice, "We can arrest you for obstruction."

"Actually Hank", Harrison said, "We can't. I registered Aiden as a joint CPD and federal task force informant. His federal status gives him conditional immunity from prosecution."

"Obviously", Pearce said, "My first priority is to find Nicky, but it's going to take some work on all our parts. I think the issue we should focus on for now is that the dirty CO's who were beating up Raul seemed to know about the stadium thing."

"Alright", Harrison said, "Then I think it goes without saying that the senior staff may also be involved. The warden's name is Malich. Peter Malich."

Voight's face was suddenly overtaken by a look of bewilderment. "Wait a minute", he said, "Peter Malich? He was a Chicago cop for twenty years. We used to work Patrol together back in the day. I had no idea he'd gone into Corrections."

"Did you get along with him back then?" Harrison asked.

Voight shook his head. "Not really", he replied, "He was an arrogant dickhead, actually. As a matter of fact, he was fired after he was charged with physically abusing his wife at the time. Even though the jury found him guilty, he used his connections to pretty much cherry-pick his own punishment, so all he got was ninety days of community service."

Harrison nodded as he absorbed Voight's information. "Even so", he said, "his conviction would've made finding any future work in law enforcement pretty much impossible."

Clara, meanwhile, was busy pulling up all various pieces of official information on Peter Malich as she listened to the conversation going on behind her. "So", she chimed in, "Monsieur Malich goes for what he thinks is the next best thing and ends up heading Chicago's newest and biggest privately-funded correctional center. This says here that most of the money that funds the prison comes from various charitable donations."

Voight scoffed at that. "'charitable donations'", he said, "Yeah, right. I'm almost afraid to ask this, but how much do they rake in per year?"

Clara typed something on her keyboard and brought up a large bar graph showing Palin Correctional Center's total funding, at which point she gasped, apparently out of surprise. "Mon Dieu!" she exclaimed in French, "it looks like Palin Correctional receives approximately nine-hundred-thousand a year worth of these so called 'donations'."

"Okay", Voight said, "So if we get to Malich, we can peel back more of the onion that makes up this little conspiracy we've found."

"Sounds about right", Harrison replied, "The question is, though, how exactly can we do that?"

Voight grinned as he took out his cell phone, speciously having some sort of trick up his sleeve. "Don't ask, don't tell, kid", he said. He dialed a number and stepped to the corner of the room for a bit of privacy. "Hey Alvin", he said softly into the phone, "Does your uncle still have that boat?"

Lake Michigan
Later That Night

Olinsky pulled a cloth hood off Peter Malich's head. The corrupt warden fought and struggled against the huge chain secured around his waist. He, Voight, and Olinsky were sitting in a tattered old rowboat smack dab in the middle of Lake Michigan.

Voight looked Malich dead in the face from a very uncomfortably close distance. With gloved hands, the detective grabbed for the edge of the piece of duct tape covering the man's mouth. "How goes it, Peter?" he said, "Long time no see, buddy."

He roughly pulled the duct tape off, at which point Malich grunted in pain. "What the fuck, Hank?" he said while panting with anxiety, "Why are you assholes doing this?"

"We have a huge problem with ex-cop wife-beater shitheads who condone treating human beings like crap", Olinsky said.

"Especially when that kind of behavior results in situations that put two of our friends in harm's way", Voight added, "One of your asshole CO's shot our sister officer and put her in the hospital."

"…And your boy detective, Harrison", Malich snapped, "Shot and killed one of my best men. His young, stupid ass is lucky I don't sue him for half a million dollars!" He chuckled arrogantly.

With that, Voight landed a solid left hook square in the center of Malich's gut. The corrupt warden then coughed and gagged in pain.

"I think you've got bigger problems, Peter", Voight said as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and removed a ring of keys. "Ah", he said as he came upon a specific key and held it in Malich's face, "ProviBlue Bank. Looks like a safety deposit box key, doesn't it, Al?"

"Sure does", Olinsky said, "I wonder what Mister Petey here is hiding in that box, hmmm?"

Malich coughed. "It's nothing", he said, "Just some payroll shit and money I've set aside to pay the prison's utilities…"

Sensing his obvious lie, Voight gut-punched the corrupt warden once again. "You don't need to set money aside for that, dumb-ass", he said, "You get nine-hundred-grand a year to fund your goddamn prison! Let me guess, that money is set aside to extort people, right?"

Malich said nothing and instead just sat stone-faced, staring at Voight.

"Where's your safety deposit box, huh?" Voight asked, "Which branch?"

"Fuck you", Malich uttered.

Voight inhaled deeply before landing a heavy sucker punch to Malich's face. "I'm sorry, Peter", he said, "I didn't catch that. Which branch?"

"Twenty-Sixth and Cal", he said, "That bank down the block from the court house. What are you guys going to do to me?"

A loud scream then pierced the quiet night sky.